A Small Price To Pay

"Water... water... Hikari... I need water," he said in a hoarse tone, getting up from his bed.

Hearing her father's cry, Hikari offered him a glass of water. She held the glass for him as his raw-boned, scrawny fingers shakily brought it to his lips. Taking a small sip of the liquid, he settled down back on his bed, heaving a sigh of relief.

Looking at her father — who back in those days was still healthy and strong — made her feel sorry for him. His body was thin to the point of emaciation. The father who once brutally scolded her, beaten her, and even tried to kill her on many occasions had been reduced to such a pathetic, helpless state.

Hikari took the medicine from her father's bedside table. She poured the brown syrup into a spoon and fed him. He coughed violently, choking on the bitter liquid that burned at the back of his throat. Hikari got up from the chair next to his bed and tried to help him, but he raised a hand to stop her. He coughed a bit more, his breath becoming shallow.

A look of concern etched across her features as Hikari watched her father with sympathetic eyes. If only there was something she could say to comfort him, it would have been a lot better. Then she wouldn't feel as suffocated as she felt that very moment.

The past few days went by with her tending to her father every morning, afternoon, and night. The doctor had told her that his father's case was serious. Excessive drinking had led him to this state. Hikari had always known her father's careless drinking habits would one day bring him severe complications, but she never thought it'd arrive so soon.

The doctor had told her that nothing could be done, that her father was beyond help, but she didn't want to believe those words. Her father must be saved. She would not give up until she found the best doctor who could cure him. He was the only family she had. No matter how bad or cruel or violent he was to her, he was still her father; his blood ran through her veins. But if she were to lose him now, what would come of her?

"Looking at you now, I'm starting to miss your mother," said Hikari's father, surprising her. He had never mentioned her mother ever since she ran away from home ten years ago. "You resemble your mother a lot."

Hikari blinked her eyes at him, blatantly confused at his sudden unexpected behaviour.

"I won't live long, Hikari...," he quavered, staring at her with tired, distant eyes.

"That's not true." Her mouth formed the words, hoping her father would understand her, hoping she could give him the comfort he needed.

"I don't get what you're trying to say," her father responded, his voice cracking.

Hikari forced a smile, trying to suppress the growing hurt and disappointment in the pit of her stomach.

Reciprocating her action, a thin white line formed around her father's lips. Had she mistaken? As far as Hikari could recall, her father had never smiled at her, not even once. It was the first time he was doing it. And to Hikari, that alone made her very happy.